Music is one of the most important things in my life. Ever since I was a kid, waddling around my kindergarten, I’d be singing along to songs I didn’t know the lyrics to. As it turned out later, I was a horrible singer, but that didn’t matter as a child. It made me happy.
My first favorite song was “Fight for your Right to Party” by The Beastie Boys. I obviously had no idea what it meant, considering I didn’t understand a word of English at that point. But it was the energy and positivity in their voices that got me. My mom told me it was a little too aggressive for a six year-old girl to listen to, but, you know, that really didn’t bother me.
The first instrument I ever learned to play was the violin, mainly because I was obsessed with this kids TV show about young Mozart. Well, I wasn’t very good at it, and my siblings always complained about that “awful noise” whenever I practiced, so I quit after about two years.
credit: lovethispic.com
But even after that I was really into music. I’d memorize my favorite songs, film music videos with my friends and siblings, we’d perform our own version of “Mamma Mia!” to our parents- all that cringy stuff.
In tenth grade, I started playing the piano, because I wanted to be able to play all of Twenty One Pilots’ songs, since they are my absolute favorite band and I really can’t sing. Apparently, I am not musically talented at all, but, again, that doesn’t really bother me. So I started playing the ukulele. I’m pretty sure it is one of the easiest instruments to play, because even I have mastered some songs by now. And that really says something.
Being able to successfully play music, all by myself, with only a couple YouTube tutorials and UkuTabs.com (literally the most helpful website ever) I gained some confidence. So, when I got bored over last summer, I decided to take a drum lesson. The drums have always been my favorite instrument in a band, they’re so unique and mentally and physically difficult, and to be honest, my favorite celebrity is a drummer so that might have played a role in it as well… I got to use my neighbor’s drums in his basement, that was hopefully a hundred percent soundproof, because I had no idea what I was doing. But after hours and hours in that hot, stuffy basement, I at least learned how to keep a decent beat. There are few things that I’ve experienced in my life that feel better than hitting the drums as if my life depended on it.
credit: tumblr.com
When the new school year started, I joined garage band. It’s probably one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’m so thankful, too, since there are already two really good drummers in the band, and they still accepted me, even though I’m pretty bad. But even playing a basic beat in the very back of on stage with a group of such talented others filled me with so much joy and new confidence. Also, apparently, “girl drummers are bad-a**”.
That same year I also started playing the guitar. I’m a really slow learner, and I’m still pretty bad at it, but I love music so much, everything about it. As long as I get some pretty sounds out of it, it makes me happy. As long as I’m not perfect yet, I will keep practicing. That might take a while though.
Probably the most important things I lost in the fire last winter were my guitar, my ukulele, and the school’s drum set. Whenever I felt down or needed distraction, I’d listen to music, and whenever I really needed to feel better, I’d play it on those instruments.
This sounds like such a cliché, but music has always been there for me. I’ve always had great friends in my life, and a sister whom I could tell almost everything. But there are some times where I don’t want to talk to anyone, and don’t want to hear anything, except thetuneofmyfavoritesongs.
It had been five hours since we started our drive, but my sister and I were just as energetic and excited as we were the second we got into the car.
“In two hours we’ll meet them. Isn’t that weird?”
I think about what my sister just said, and yes, that is so weird, so exciting, so incredibly exciting. In two hours we’ll be talking to the members of one of my favorite bands, Judah and the Lion. Two more hours, and then our exhausting weekend trip will be more than worth it.
“I can’t wait! The show is gonna be so amazing!” I said, anticipating the rush you get from when the first beat drops at a concert, kicking off the screaming and cheering in the crowd. “Look! I’m shaking!” my hands were actually trembling, aside from being shaken on the bumpy highway.
Isn’t that weird though? Imagine being famous. People would pay to watch you play music, to talk to you, and maybe get a picture and a signature. It’s so unnatural if you think about it. But so amazing, not gonna lie.
Once we arrived at our hotel, we checked in, got ready, and rushed straight to the venue, to find a pretty long line before the entrance. But that didn’t matter, because my sister got us VIP tickets for my birthday, which was honestly one of the best presents I have ever gotten.
After a little time, we were let in. We went up those beautiful stairs within those carefully embellished walls, ending up in a small room with cozy lighting, and a bunch of banjos and guitars on one side. My sister and I sat down on the floor in the front, so did everyone else.
Then the band walked out, and there was a general awe in the air, cut by the clapping and excited chattering of the people.
“Thank you for coming!”
Ahh! Wow. No, thank you!! I was so. Excited.
They played a song, a mix of folk and rock and hip hop. Then we asked them questions, and they asked us questions, and it was all so fake and wonderful.
After that, we all took pictures with them.
via upload.vikimedia.org
As I walked up to them, one of them introduced himself.
“Hey, I’m Brian!”
“I know!” I said. Of course I know.
We all hugged, and took the picture, and apparently they figured by my accent that I wasn’t from here.
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from Germany!” I said, in disbelief that Judah just actually talked to me. Wow….!!
They actually asked me a couple things, until the photographer told them it was time to keep the line moving. Dammit!
My sister and I were both stunned, and we spent the next hour talking about what just happened, and defending our spot by the barricade, of course.
The venue was so beautiful, with a gigantic chandelier and wooden floors. The opening bands were amazing. But nothing even came close to the actual show. I mean, a band that has nine banjos on stage has to be good.
I knew every single word. Almost, at least. I yelled along to the lyrics the entire time, and, I must say, it really made me lose my voice and it still kind of hurts to talk, and though the ringing in my ears persisted for hours after the show, and though we had another six hour drive ahead of us the next day, it was all more than worth it, and I will never forget the time I got to meet Judah and the Lion.
Maybe across the world or right next to me, but I know that we are meant to be.
You are a picture of beauty and everything I envision.
You have a brain beyond your years, and feet in your shoes, so you can go any direction you choose.
You know which path is right and wrong, and you choose whichever one suits you.
We will travel together far and wide, across the country and across the sky, to see the great monuments, people, and things and become closer than we could ever think.
Photo Credit: rlv.zcache.com
Off to Paris, Japan, Rome, and possibly Wyoming where the buffalo roam. Then let’s jet set to Milan to see fashion week and back to Berlin to have a great feast.
I want to see the world with you beside me and live my life like never before.
We can be like the people in magazines, and never look back.
But we can only travel these places, and go these ways if we live the rest of our days… together.
I’m no fashion designer. In fact I’ve never sewn a piece of clothing in my life, but I feel like I know what fashion is when I see it. I know fashion is supposed to be a statement of art, a piece of someone’s mind artistically constructed into something wearable, but sometimes I wonder how pieces of fabric are hideously sewn together, given a ridiculously high price because of its brand, and called fashion.
“Project Runway” is an amazing TV show which many talented and aspiring fashion designers enter in hopes of getting a spot in New York Fashion Week. I always found it incredible how people were able to construct amazing clothes under extreme pressure in, sometimes, just one day, especially in the unconventional challenges where the designers aren’t even allowed to use fabric.
“Project Runway” has always been my favorite TV show. I would go visit my aunt and curl up in the living room together and binge episode after episode, debating over who’s going to be the winner or who’s going to be out, eventually becoming a tradition during my visits. However, over the years the show has started to disappoint me. That isn’t to say that they aren’t amazing designers, but I feel like sometimes the winners are usually based off of likability versus actual raw talent.
Photo Credit: MMC News
I haven’t watched all of the most recent season, but I did see spoilers from the finale and I was not impressed… at all. The designers had weeks to come up with a fashion line, and the clothes they managed to make in one day were much more impressive than the ones they brought to the runway. The silhouettes of each piece were inexistent and bland, the color schemes were simple, and overall it just wasn’t nearly as mind blowing as the runway pieces from previous years. If I were a judge, I would’ve sent them all home, but I guess there has to be a winner, right?
If you need a good laugh, and want to see more of the most ridiculous “Project Runway” looks, click here
Halloween is arguably one of the most fun holidays. You can dress up like a banana, a zombie cheerleader, or even a cat. However, a certain kind of costume that is not acceptable, comes around every year. Those costumes fall into a small category: when people adopt the aspects and features of another race or culture as a costume, a joke. Some examples of this are blackface and yellowface where people will literally paint a color onto their skin to make them look like a different race. Halloween is not the proper place to display your racial microaggressions. You may not even be aware of them, most people aren’t. Microaggressions are when you say a racial slur or dress up as another race to make fun of them. Actions like these showcase how unaware our society is to the amount of cultural appropriation we experience on a daily basis. Some may take this as it not being okay to dress up as their favorite movie character of a different race, but that is not the case. Little kids can dress up as Mulan, Pocahontas, and Tiana, because they are doing it out of admiration, not disrespect. It is hard to identify when a costume goes from okay to bad. If you think someone will be offended by your costume then odds are it isn’t appropriate.
In 2012, a group of students at Ohio State University, known as STARS (Students Teaching About Racism in Society), made a series of posters to showcase this problematic Halloween trend. It is a series of six posters each picturing an offensive costume representing a racial stereotype, an actual person representing that racial group, and the same line: “You wear the costume for one night, I wear the stigma for life.”
And this is so true. Coming from a place of privilege, I don’t understand the type of oppression people of color receive on a daily basis; neither do any of the people who dress up as stereotypes of a culture. If you dress up as a racial stereotype, then you most likely don’t know anything about that particular culture’s daily oppression. People who don blackface or dress up as a nerdy Asian never have to live in the skin of people of color. They don’t have to wake up knowing they’ll be judged for the amount of pigment in their skin. Most people dress up as stereotypical racial figures to make fun, not knowing anything about what it’s actually like to be who they’re dressed up as. On November 1st, you can wake up in your safety bubble of skin and go on with life, but the group of people you made fun of the night before will continue to wear the skin and/or identity that you appropriated as a costume.
OVS Journalism Blog 
You must be logged in to post a comment.